He circled to the canal’s edge, calling to get the girl’s attention. “You! Warlock!”
She turned toward him. Flame trailed behind her like a queen’s mantua. The spreading edges crawled up the brick walls of the nearest house in blazing tendrils.
The Falconer’s voice rang out above the clamor of the growing crowd across the canal. “In the name of His Serenity the Doge, I claim you for the Falcons of Raverra!”
That certainly got her attention. The flames bent in his direction as if in a strong wind.
“I don’t belong to you, either!” Her voice was wild as a hissing bonfire. “You can’t claim me. I’ll see you burn first!”
Now she was going to kill him, too. Unless I stopped her.
My heart fluttering like an anxious dowager’s handkerchief, I struggled to calm down and think. Maybe she wouldn’t attack if I didn’t rush at her. I tucked my precious satchel under my coat and hustled toward the bridge as if I hoped to scurry past her and escape. It wasn’t hard to pretend. Some in the crowd on the far side beckoned me to safety.
My legs trembled with the urge to heed them and dash across. I couldn’t bear the thought of Muscati’s pages withering to ashes.
I tightened my grip on the jess.
The Falconer extended his hand toward the girl to keep her attention. “By law, you belonged to Raverra the moment you were born with the mage mark. I don’t know how you managed to hide for so long, but it’s over now. Come with me.”
The balefire roared at him in a blue-white wave.
“Plague take you!” The girl raised her fist in defiance. “If Raverra wants my fire, she can have it. Let the city burn!”
I lunged across the remaining distance between us, leaping over snaking lines of flame. Eyes squeezed half shut against the heat, I flung out an arm and looped the jess over her upraised fist.
The effect was immediate. The flames flickered out as if a cold blast of wind had snuffed them. The Falconer still recoiled, his arms upraised to protect his face, his fine uniform doublet smoking.
The girl swayed, the fire flickering out in her eyes. The golden jess settled around her bone-thin wrist.
She collapsed to the flagstones.
Pain seared my hand. I hissed through my teeth as I snatched it to my chest. That brief moment of contact had burned my skin and scorched my boots and coat. My satchel, thank the Graces, seemed fine.
Across the bridge, the gathering of onlookers cheered, then began to break up. The show was over, and nobody wanted to go near a fire warlock, even an unconscious one.
I couldn’t blame them. No sign remained of ruffians in the canal, though the burned smell lingered horribly in the air. Charred black scars streaked the sides of the buildings flanking me.
The Falconer approached, grinning with relief. “Well done! I’m impressed. Are you all right?”
It hit me in a giddy rush that it was over. I had saved—if not all of Raverra, at least a block or two of it—by myself, with my own hands. Not with my mother’s name, or with my mother’s wealth, but on my own.
Too dangerous to go to a pawnbroker’s shop? Ha! I’d taken out a fire warlock. I smiled at him, tucking my burned hand into my sleeve. “I’m fine. I’m glad I could help.”
“Lieutenant Marcello Verdi, at your service.” He bowed. “What is your name, brave young lady?”
“Amalia Cornaro.”
“Well, welcome to the doge’s Falconers, Miss…” He stopped. The smile fell off his face, and the color drained from his bronze skin. “Cornaro.” He swallowed. “Not…you aren’t related to La Contessa Lissandra Cornaro, surely?”
My elation curdled in my stomach. “She’s my mother.”
“Hells,” the lieutenant whispered. “What have I done?”
By Sebastien de Castell
SPELLSLINGER
Spellslinger
Shadowblack
Charmcaster
Soulbinder
Queenslayer
THE GREATCOATS
Traitor’s Blade
Knight’s Shadow
Saint’s Blood
Tyrant’s Throne
Praise for
Spellslinger
“Told with the conviction of Ursula Le Guin and the dash of Alexandre Dumas.”
—New Statesman (UK)
“A fast, fun, often funny fantasy series.”
—B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog
“An intriguing system of magic, wry humor, and a twisting plot make for an entertaining series debut.”
—Kirkus
“A bucket-load of tension is offset with humour, power struggles, lots of magic and some great characters. Fantasy junkies will devour with relish.”
—Guardian (UK)
“Spellslinger is the start of something truly special. Sebastien de Castell is a master of breakneck pacing, dagger-sharp dialogue, and twists you didn’t see coming—and this series has it all.”
—Nicholas Eames, author of Kings of the Wyld
“This book is dangerously addictive. It has it all: compelling world-building, breathtaking plot-twists, a page-turning pace, and characters who soon feel like old friends. I can’t wait for the next one!”
—Melissa Caruso, author of The Tethered Mage
“Exotic, original and gripping from the get-go, Spellslinger is a must-read.”
—Jonathan Stroud, author of the Lockwood & Co. series
“A tremendously fun read full of wit and action.”
—James Islington, author of The Shadow of What Was Lost
“A fun, fast-moving adventure, with surprising depth and insight.”
—Jim C. Hines, Hugo Award–winning author
“Hugely enjoyable…fast-paced, compassionate, wise and with terrific characters.”
—Amanda Craig, author of Hearts and Minds
“Written with such obvious joy and brio that it demands to be read.”
—RJ Barker, author of Age of Assassins
“We can confidently say that de Castell’s new series has hit the ground running.”
—Starburst magazine
“There’s room for wit and playfulness amid the high-stakes duels and death matches, and Kellen’s career is likely to run and run.”
—The Observer (UK)
Queenslayer Page 39